Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

Inexorably, Tobias’s eyes returned to the stain on the floor. There were bits in the gore—inedible buckles and scraps of bone—but the only thing he recognized was the steam-driven chair shoved into the shadows. King Coal had been a huge man, and for any creature to eat him and three others beggared the imagination. Tobias had a fleeting thought about greasy food and indigestion, but it vanished as the monster rose and began moving his way. “What is it? Why isn’t anyone killing it?”

“Because it’s the Black King,” Keating returned, his voice grim.

The dragon’s tongue flicked his way. With what seemed like prudence, Tobias fell to one knee and bowed his head. The tongue flicked again, this time touching his face.

Death sits upon you , said a voice in his head.

Tobias looked up sharply. “What’s going on?”

Yes, you hear me . The Black King’s eyes gave a lazy blink. You are close enough to the realm of spirit for me to speak with you .

Rage shot through Tobias. “No!”

Why deny it?

Because he never wanted anything to do with magic. Because he wanted to be home in his bed with Alice, making up for everything he’d never got right. But the clock that measured his life was winding down, every tick weaker than the last. He felt Alice’s eyes on him, questioning. Loving. Hot tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. This creature hadn’t earned the right to see his weakness.

A rueful chuckle rippled through his mind. Do you know what it is to be old, Mr. Roth?

“No, Your Majesty.” And I never will . He furtively glanced about the room, which was largely unfurnished but for the throne on its dais. Though Tobias had seen gaslights elsewhere, this room was still caught in a time before industry. Torches were thrust into sconces along the walls. The Wraiths had ended their feeding frenzy and stood motionless in a regular circle around the perimeter, puddles of squirming shadows about their feet.

Old age is when some ambitious peddler of coal lands in your home and proclaims himself your master. He thinks it is the shiny, steaming toys he owns that makes him king. Blue King. Gold King. Scarlet King. What do they know of kingship?

Tobias bowed his head again. “Your Majesty, are you not also a member of the Steam Council?” Then he recalled that the Black Kingdom was always represented by proxy. Now he knew why.

I was here long before the first machines. My only requirement was that I be left in peace, but your war shook me from my sleep. So I had the tunnels blocked and my servants deployed to bring the remaining barons my way. If they cannot solve their differences, I will do it for them .

A wave of pain made Tobias giddy. “Devouring the opposition is a tactic I honestly hadn’t considered.”

The dragon gave an amused blink. Why are you here?

“The Gold King stole my child.”

So it seems, but your search is over now .

It was, but not the way he would ever have imagined it, with his wife and child in even more peril than before. He cursed himself for letting Alice accompany him, even though he well knew that wasn’t his decision to make. Misery and fury claimed him, bringing on another heaving, wet cough. “All I want is for my family and friends to go free,” he gasped at the end of it.

We don’t always get what we want, Mr. Roth .

Bitterness made him foolish. “What could you possibly want that you don’t have?”

Tobias felt, rather than saw, the Wraiths and their pets drawing closer. Anxious, he began to rise, the sickness in his body suddenly roiling to the fore. Pain shot up from his gut, leaving him sweating and breathless. Blind terror jumped along his nerves as the Wraiths seized him, hard hands crushing flesh against bone. He heard Alice and Evelina cry out, but the sound was distant. The burning eyes of the Black King consumed his mind.

What do I want? I am a creature of another age, Mr. Roth. I am the last of my kind. No one else walked beneath the new sun, when fire was a marvel and men lived like a lesser kind of wolf. No one remembers the songs or the sorrows of that age. I have changed with the endless roll and churn of time, but after so long, the will frays like old silk. I have been the object of fear and veneration. The race of Man has worshipped me, and they have reviled me. I have been dishonored, tricked and cast down to these depths. I no longer wish for anything new, so I sleep. But sleep is forever interrupted by the antics of children. I want forgetfulness. I want abdication. Death is the only true peace, and it is one I am denied .

“Death is not as pleasant a prospect as it sounds,” Tobias growled.

You do not value it .

“I’m not ready.” Pain made his voice sharp.

Few ever are, Mr. Roth .

“I would fight for those I love.”

What would you trade for your wife and child?

“Let the other prisoners go and you can have what you want of me.”

And if what I want is to taste your death?

Fresh terror made him flinch against the Wraiths’ iron grip. He heard the dragon’s words, but they made no sense. A thousand questions battered against his fading will until, with his last scrap of strength, he pushed the confusion away.

He was instantly calmed. The details didn’t matter. Saving his family did. If surrender was his final card to play, his last weapon to save them, so be it. “Then consider my death yours.”

Very well, Tobias Roth. Are you prepared?

Agony racked him, bowing his back until he heard bones crack. Why not? He could no longer speak, but he somehow felt the Black King understand his thought.

One of the Wraiths pulled out a long and evil-looking knife, but it was as nothing next to the dragon’s talons.

EVELINA’S GORGE ROSE. She was certain she would pass out and clung to Nick with clammy fingers. Her mind couldn’t grasp what she was seeing, and wouldn’t accept that there was nothing she could do.

“Remove the others!” said Lord Fawkes, sweeping a hand toward the archway. “The king is at work.”

The Wraiths surged forward. Alice screamed again, the baby’s wails multiplied by his mother’s terror. Evelina plunged toward Tobias.

“Evelina, wait!” Nick leapt after her, grabbing her elbow. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

He was probably right, yet she refused to turn away. She’d felt Tobias’s illness at Baskerville Hall, but had not fully understood it at the time. Now she could sense his death hovering, too near for any healing magic to help him—but loss and grief insisted she be there at his side. “Tobias!”

“Silence!” Lord Fawkes demanded. “Get back with the rest.”

But Evelina wasn’t moving, so neither was Nick. She could just see into the tight circle around Tobias. The Black King was so close that his breath stirred his hair, and one wickedly curved claw was pressed to the hollow of his throat. Tobias cried out in agony, twisting against the pain as his flesh succumbed to the Scarlet King’s poison. He was dying. The only question was whether the dragon or the toxins would get to him first.

“Evelina!” Nick said again, grabbing her elbow. “What are you thinking? Because if you’re seriously planning to take on the entire Black Kingdom, I need to know.”

“I need to stop this!” She needed Tobias alive. She needed everyone out of there safely. But the dark magic she felt coursing through the dragon was enormous—too much for her to fight. She had to use her wits, not spells. “My lord king,” she cried out, “if you have superior magic, do you not have superior powers to heal?”